With her deceased husband as her dowry, would Your Highness dare to marry her?

Amo hurriedly put down his teacup and frantically started using sign language, waving his hands in the air for a long time without understanding what he meant.

Princess Yongle pouted, crossed her arms, and snorted, "So slow and hesitant, not like a man at all."

Amo was so provoked by her that he almost spoke, but the more anxious he became, the more chaotic his hands became, and the more chaotic they became, the less Princess Yongle understood what he was trying to say.

Amo opened his mouth and managed to utter a few strained sounds, which, combined with his gestures, meant "I am not worthy."

Princess Yongle's eyes widened. She grabbed a teacup from the table and splashed it at Amo's face. Amo instinctively raised her arm to block, but the cup was empty. Undeterred, she grabbed the teapot, lifted the lid, and splashed the teacup as well, but it was already empty.

Princess Yongle was furious. She grabbed the teapot from the table and smashed it on the ground, shards of porcelain flying everywhere. Amo took a half step back. Princess Yongle was still not satisfied and threw a flurry of punches at him.

"Who says you're not worthy? I say you are, so you are!" Princess Yongle's voice was shrill and bright, almost lifting the roof off.

Amo was stunned by her shout, his dark face turning red and white in turns. He made a gesture, but his fingers froze in mid-air, and he didn't even know what to say.

He was the son of a general and followed his father into battle from a young age. He held a sword at seven, rode a horse at nine, and was able to patrol the camp for his father at twelve. Everyone said he was a tiger cub from a military family, and that he would surely grow up to be a man of great stature, just like his father.

But when he was twelve, an ambush destroyed everything. The Tiele tribe seemed to have known their marching route in advance, and laid a trap on both sides of the canyon.

He watched as his father's warhorse was overturned by the tripwire, watched as his father, despite being hit by several arrows, still clung to his long sword and refused to fall, and watched as the barbarian soldiers swarmed forward.

He tried desperately to rush over, but was forcibly pulled off his horse and struck on the head. Before he lost consciousness, his last sight was of his father's unseeing eyes.

He woke up in the Tiele tribe's tent, his mouth full of the taste of blood.

Those men said that when they interrogated him about news from the military camp, he said nothing. So they branded his throat with red-hot iron tongs and cut off his tongue.

He fainted from the pain and when he woke up, he found himself thrown into a mass grave, his blood already starting to stink.

He walked for seven days and seven nights before returning to the army camp. He thought someone would seek justice for him and his son. But he couldn't speak, couldn't write, and no one paid attention to his gestures.

The surviving generals needed a scapegoat to take the blame for this crushing defeat, and a mute was the perfect candidate.

You leaked the marching route, your father took the blame for you, and your survival is irrefutable proof. He was only twelve years old that year, and everyone in the world cursed him for being a spineless coward, for betraying his father for personal gain, and for deserving to die in the wilderness.

Only Pei Jinxuan believed him. At that time, Pei Jinxuan was just a boy who came to the army to comfort the fallen soldiers. In the corner of the tent, he saw the child curled up in a ball, his body covered in wounds, but his eyes were surprisingly bright, like those of a wounded wolf cub.

Pei Jinxuan squatted down and asked him his name. Unable to gesture, he only managed to scribble a single character on the ground: "Mo" (墨). That was the name his father had given him. After reading the character, Pei Jinxuan took off his cloak and draped it over him, saying:

"Come with me."

Pei Jinxuan took him back to the Jing'an Prince's Mansion, hired the best doctors to treat his injuries, provided him with fine clothes and food, taught him to read and write, and let him pick up the knife again.

His physical wounds healed, but the wounds in his heart remained. That indelible shame was his eternal pain. Unable to repay it in this life, he gave his life to the Jing'an Prince's Mansion.

He did whatever Pei Jinxuan asked him to do, never asking why or considering the consequences. But deep down, he always felt like a spineless coward who couldn't speak, someone inferior to others.

Who is Princess Yongle? Her mother is Princess Yongning, the younger sister of the late emperor, and her father is the hereditary Duke of Zhenguo.

At her birth, the late emperor personally bestowed upon her a title and a fief of three thousand households. On her full moon day, a three-day banquet was held in the palace. She was a golden branch and jade leaf, the apple of the eye of the eldest princess and the Duke of Zhenguo, the brightest flame in the entire capital. Whatever she wanted, she never needed to speak; it would naturally be presented to her. She deserved the best man in the world, not him.

Thinking this, Amo reached out and grabbed Princess Yongle's arm, lifting her out the door like a chick, and slammed the door shut. Then, he looked at the silver sachet on his wrist, gritted his teeth, endured the pain, untied it, and threw it out the window. With a bang, the window was also slammed shut.

"Amo, open the door! Open the door for me!" Princess Yongle pounded on the door. Amo pressed his back against the door, preventing her from entering.

Finally, the door stopped moving. Amo held his breath and, unable to sense any movement from Princess Yongle, breathed a sigh of relief. However, a wave of disappointment immediately followed, leaving him feeling like a drowning man struggling to breathe.

With a loud crash, Princess Yongle burst through the window, and a gust of cold wind rushed in, making Amo shiver.

"You…" Princess Yongle glared with her red, rabbit-like eyes, rushed up to Amo, and grabbed his collar. "I saved your life, and how could you treat me like this?!"

Princess Yongle hit and cursed him until her hands ached, but Amo remained unmoved. His thick eyebrows were always furrowed, like a little dog with "eight" shaped eyebrows, his eyes brimming with tears.

Princess Yongle, unable to contain her anger, squatted down and burst into tears. Amo finally moved, patting her shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Princess Yongle twisted her shoulder, turned away, and continued to cry.

Amo had no choice but to pick up the silver incense ball she had given him, tie it to his wrist, and then wave it in front of her. The silver bell on the incense ball made a clear and melodious sound. Princess Yongle ignored him at first, but after glancing at him twice, she burst into laughter through her tears.

She smiled, and Amo smiled too, but there was a hint of bitterness in his smile.

"I don't want you to suffer." He raised his hand and typed out these words.

Princess Yongle pouted and said, "I don't feel wronged. I can love whoever I want." She then turned to look at A-Mo, her gaze sweeping over him. "Besides," she continued, "we've already been intimate. Who else could I marry but you?"

Skin-to-skin contact? Amo's face turned red again, and he quickly shook his head and waved his hands.

"What?! You still won't admit it?!" Princess Yongle stood with her hands on her hips, her cheeks puffed out in anger. "Who sucked out the poison for you the day you were poisoned? It was me! I looked you over from head to toe. Tell me, doesn't that count as physical intimacy?!"

Amo scratched his head and thought for a long time. Princess Yongle was so angry that she raised her hand and gave him a sharp rap on the head.

"You're so stupid!"

Amo was hit, but couldn't retaliate, so he could only smile foolishly.

Princess Yongle looked at his face, a feeling of reluctance welling up inside her. She couldn't help but raise her hand to touch A-Mo's forehead, and said: ...